The Art of Seduction
by memory's marionette
Summary: Dan realizes too late that placing your sister as a bet when drunk is never a good idea while Ian learns that seduction comes in many forms when it comes to Amy. Complete.
1. Prologue

The Art of Seduction

Amy knew it was going to be the start of a bad day when her dork of a little brother returned home late looking like a disoriented mess. She sniffed the air around him. He smelled a lot like liquor, a substance that no _underage_ mischievous ninja lord in training should have access to.

"Are you drunk, dweeb?"

He looked at her, a huge grin plastered on his face. "You're pretty. I luuuuurve you," he slurred before starting to bawl his eyes out. "So muuuch!" He enveloped her in a hug before trying to slobber kisses all over her cheeks.

'_Eeew. Gross.'_ Amy pushed him off her. He looked like he was going to fall over in a drunken heap of idiocy in a second._ 'Well, that definitely answers my question.'_

She knew Dan could be an idiot but she had at least thought that he would be sensible enough to abstain from underage drinking. Then again, this was him she was talking about. 'Sensible' was a word that didn't exist in his vocabulary. In fact, she'd be surprised if he claimed he had ever heard the word before in his life.

He could barely stand still. His nose had turned red, and his complexion had become a bit ruddy. She was about to lecture him, but then he gagged. The expression on her face turned to one of alarm. She hurriedly locked him into the bathroom. She didn't want an artistic masterpiece of barf on the floor of her apartment or on her—_ especially_ not on her.

Dan woke up with the worst headache in his life. It felt like someone had extracted his brain form his skull and steamrollered it before sticking acupuncture needles in strategic locations and putting it back in his head.

"What on earth did you do, Dan?" He winced as he heard his sister's voice. It felt like someone had rigged his ears with loudspeakers. Every little sound seemed amplified a billion times. Even the most infinitesimal of noises made him want to go swimming in outer space.

"Go away," came his muffled voice from underneath the covers. She pulled the blankets off of him.

"Tell me," Amy demanded.

'_It's official. She has completed her metamorphosis," _He thought miserably. He really wasn't in the mood for this_. 'She is now fulfilling her role as CEO of Ms. Big Sister Bossypants and Co.'_

"Tell me," she repeated. "Before I open the windows and let the sunlight attack your eyes."

He groaned. "I got drunk."

"Yes, I know that, dweeb. That's as crystalline clear as the fact that cats are not dogs and the fact that you are by dictionary definition, a dweeb." She snatched the pillow away from him. "What was the prelude to your drinking and coming back as a delirious drunkard in a drunken stupor looking like a baboon?" He looked at her, confusion etched on his face. She sighed before repeating herself exasperatedly. "What happened before you got wasted? _Why_ did you get wasted?"

"The other ninja lords of the world told me how awesome _sake_ was. So I drank it."

"You mean the ninja lords of the world that are just as real as flying green unicorns that fart gold?" She rolled her eyes. "Then what happened?"

His head hurt from trying to remember what had gone down the night before. Then, he paled. "I have some bad news." She looked at him expectantly. "Cobra was there."

"Which one was it?" she asked. _'Please let it not be the jerk. Please let it not be the jerk. Let it be the spoilt slave to fashion.'_

"Ummm…your lesser half," he half-squeaked, starting to feel a bit scared. His sister could turn into The Incredible Hulk when she was terribly vexed. He could almost see the vein threatening to throb on her forehead. "There's more," he added in a barely audible whisper. Amy cursed. This could not be good.

Amy narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean by 'there's more'?" Dan quaked in his awesome ninja in training outfit. Was she ever pissed or what?

"Well…whenIgotdrunk, Isortofmadeabetwithimandlost."

She whacked him on his head. "Slow down, dobe. I can't decipher what it is you're saying."

"Promise you won't kill me," he whispered.

She frowned. "Fine. I won't."

"I made a bet with Cobra and I lost."

"So what did you bet? Our house?" She raised an eyebrow. "My sanity? Because I have to say there's not much of it left when I'm dealing with you."

He took a deep breath and averted his eyes. "You. I bet you. You're basically his servant for the next two weeks."

Amy screamed.

"WHAT?"


	2. The Law of Attraction

Disclaimer: If I owned it, would I be writing fanfiction?

* * *

><p>Amy felt like the most frustrated being on the face of the Earth as she knocked on the Kabra's front door.<p>

"Hello, Amy," Ian greeted her, not at all surprised to find her there when he opened the front door of his apartment. Ian was well dressed as always, which was slightly suspicious because he was _supposed_ to be lounging around the house. It was almost as though he had predicted her arrival down to the nth second. "I see Daniel has told you about—"

She cut him off. "My slave labor contract?" She frowned. "Yes, he did." She glared daggers at him. "Would you mind telling me how someone like you, who is _regarded_ to be _smart_ managed to think of a bet that involves slave labor when slavery has been abolished for I don't know how many years?" Her voice rose into a steady crescendo as she tried to control her anger. She felt mad, so mad she wanted to rip that constant mask of 'I'm as cool as a cucumber' attitude right off his face. Here he was, forcing her into servitude and he was so unbothered by it. It annoyed her to no end. In fact, it _pissed_ her off like crazy.

'_Cute,'_ he thought as he saw her face scrunch up with contempt. Of course, he didn't voice that thought. Ian knew better than to let his guard down. He had to be careful. For all he knew, his _lovable_ sister was waiting around the corner with a tape recorder in hand to obtain something for blackmail.

"I forgot," he said with a shrug.

He watched in amusement as her face changed into an exact copy of an Angry Bird.

"What do you mean you forgot? How do you conveniently forget _that_ when slavery was abolished in 1865 in the Thirteenth Amendment of The United States Constitution?" she half-shrieked. Ian smiled. How he loved pushing her bookworm buttons so.

He smirked at her. "Now, now love. You don't need to frown so." He cupped a hand under her chin which she promptly smacked away. "You'll ruin your pretty face."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. I'd rather be born as a mutilated floral yellow and pink grasshopper if it meant that I'd never have to see you again," she said scathingly.

"Don't you think that's a bit too harsh?"

"It was meant to be," was her curt reply. "Where's Natalie?" she demanded as she pushed past him to enter his penthouse. It wasn't as though he'd be inviting her in anytime soon. She had a feeling that basic manners were something his parents had omitted in his education syllabus.

"I think you're mistaken, love." He smiled what Amy supposed he thought was his most winning grin which she thought was as charming as the sensation of having a cow pat thrown at her face. "You're here to cater to me; not my dear sister."

"Oh, shut it," she replied exasperatedly.

"Yes, dear brother," came Natalie's voice from across the room as she dragged a myriad of suitcases to the front door. "Do shut it."

"Might I ask where you're off to, _darling_ Natalie?" His voice depicted his annoyance. He didn't like being told what to do. He was the one that gave orders, not the other way around. He certainly wasn't going to bend over backwards to please every single one of his sisters' whims and fancies. Of course, this had led to a lot of whinging on Natalie's part but he had gotten used to her constant whining a long time ago.

"Seeing as that _Amelia_ is going to be here for the next two weeks, I have taken the liberty of checking myself into the finest hotel in town." She made a face. "I for one," she said, "am not going to stick around to see you turn into a lovesick puppy around her because I'm quite sure that I'll end up adorning my beautiful Jimmy Choo heels with vomit."

"So you're leaving?" Amy said blankly.

Natalie rolled her eyes. "Yes, that was what I just said. Is there a problem?"

Amy never predicted that she would ever have this thought in a million years but she _needed_ Natalie or not she would, without a doubt, be on the verge of insanity by the first ten minutes. "You can't leave me here with him!" She totally ignored his mutterings of 'not being that bad'.

"Actually," Natalie said as she put on her Chanel sunglasses. "I can. For the love of Prada, you can't exactly expect me to stay here as Ian turns into a flirtatious fool/ addlepated twit. You don't expect to tell you to book me a ticket to that show, do you?" she said dryly. Amy tried to think of a good rebuttal, but found that there was none. Natalie closed the door after her. "Toodles!"

Amy just stood there. "Great. There goes my only hope for salvation, waltzing right out the door."

Ian cleared his throat. "You could have refused to come, you know?"

She whirled around on him. "Don't give me that when you know perfectly well that you have abducted my dingbat of a brother's _expensive_ ninja weapons arsenal! I _did not_, I repeat, _did not_ have a choice!" she hissed vehemently at him.

Ian shrugged. "Oh yes. That had completely slipped my mind."

She muttered something along the lines of "Old forgetful goat." She glared at him. "So what is it that you'll have me do first? Wear a French maid outfit?" she sneered.

"The thought had crossed my mind…." Ian trailed off. He could see the alarm in her eyes that she was trying to mask. "But I decided against it." Relief washed over her even though part of her curiosity had been piqued.

"Why?"

"No reason." He wasn't about to tell her that he had feared perverts with strange fetishes would come after her.

"Well, thank you," she said stiffly. "Albeit there is no way that I would wear it considering that there are many lechers and perverts out there who have fetishes for maid outfits, I appreciate the very small, sudden appearance of your understanding heart." She shot him a dirty look. "Case in point, the person standing in front of me."

"I am _not_ a pervert." He insisted adamantly. "Besides, love, I have to tell you that I do own one of those heart things."

"You sure could have fooled me. As far as matters of your heart go, I didn't even know you had one in the first place." She glared at him mutinously. "So what _would_ you have me do for a whole fortnight?"

He smirked at her. She could have sworn that the smirking was the first thing the Kabras had taught Ian. Ian had it down to an art. "I want you to address me as Lord."

She quirked an eyebrow. "Lord what? Lord of the Flies?"

That wiped the smirk right off his handsome face. "Well, aren't you hilarious today, love? No, just 'Lord' is fine."

"I refuse," she said defiantly.

He came nearer and nearer to her, until there was barely ten centimeters between them. "You seem to have forgotten, love, that you work for me now." He pierced her stare with his gaze. Amy shrunk back a tiny bit. "At least you are for the next two weeks anyway."

"Fine," she said coolly. She made a memo to torture Dan when she gets out of this hellhole. "My Lord…" she said grudgingly before adding, "Jerk."

"What was that?"

"Nothing," she said, smiling sweetly at him. Two could play at that game. She certainly wasn't going to just stand there and be a pushover. Her jade eyes sparkled with mirth. She enjoyed torturing him as much as he did her. "My Lord Arsehole."

Ian swore mentally. If she hadn't looked at him with her bewitching jade eyes as she said that, he would have done…..well, he didn't know what he would have done exactly. But! He would have done…something.

He cursed at the effect that she had on him. Everything about her made him confused, intrigued. He had no clue as to why he felt like a bumbling fool when it came to her. Her whole entity was mesmerizing to him. Her reddish-brown hair, her jewel-tone eyes, her slender frame, that intelligent twinkle in her eyes…..

_'Oh, jolly good. Now I'm turning into a fanboy,'_ he thought to himself. Her gaze was still trained on him._ 'I wonder what she's thinking about….'_

In her head, Amy let out a battle cry. _'What a jerk. What person in their right mind would entrap a girl in slave labor? I better be careful around him. What a psychopath. I mean, who cares if he's rich, smart and handsom—Oh, crapoodles!'_ she swore mentally. She cursed every part of him from his amber eyes to his impeccable features and razor-sharp bone structure. She even cursed him for being half- a- head taller than her because craning her neck to look at him was so painful. _'Damn him for becoming better looking over the years. My neurons can't even send nerve impulses properly without being befuddled around him.'_

As the adage goes, great minds think alike.

And so do star-crossed lovers.

* * *

><p><em><strong>The first part of the Art of Seduction: The Law of Attraction.<strong>_

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Please feel free to leave a review. [Hint. Hint. (:] If you spot any errors at all, please tell me. Constructive criticsm is very much appreciated.**


	3. A Simple Matter of Charm

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Guide:

Narrative

_Emphasizing_

'_Thoughts'_

'_**Inner voice'**_

**A/N: Thanks so much for the reviews everyone. Special thanks to Ballet Reader and Volcanic Lily for the feedback. This chapter is for all of you. :)**

* * *

><p>Amy woke up as the sunlight that streamed through the blinds fluttered about on her eyelids. She took a good stretch as she yawned uncannily like a hippo, letting out a sigh as she rolled off the 500-thread count Egyptian cotton sheets.<p>

Her eyes shot wide open. _'Wait a second. 500 thread count Egyptian cotton sheets?'_ Amy started to panic. _'Oh no.'_

This was by far her worst nightmare. _'I've been abducted by a rich Neanderthal who is perverted, lacking in social skills and emotionally retarded.'_ But then she realized that that wasn't the case at all as vivid memories flashed through her mind's eye at bullet train speed. She was mistaken. Amy had not been abducted by a rich Neanderthal who was perverted, lacking in social skills and emotionally retarded.

No, it was far more terrible than that. She had been forced into slavery by a rich Neanderthal who was perverted, lacking in social skills and emotionally retarded.

She flopped back onto the bed. This was going to be a _long_ fortnight.

* * *

><p>Amy had decided there was only one way her sanity could be kept intact while she stayed with Ian, and that was by attaining the extremely high level of patience that was synonymous with the likes of Mother Theresa and Gandhi. She had given up the fight before actually putting in any effort, though, as she had deemed it impossible.<p>

Amy held the opinion that Ian was by far the most annoying creature in the history of mankind. In fact, she mused, she could totally believe that Ian was related to the likes of Napoleon. Sure, the destruction of her life as she knew it was damage on a miniscule scale to the rest of the world, but still!

She felt so stressed out which was what had led her to her current predicament. Seeing as that she was not training as a Buddhist monk in Zen mode, she had opted to do the next best thing.

Binge eat. This would explain why Ian was starting to fear for his life when he saw her frying eggs with an assortment of other things including ice cream, nuts, chocolate, caviar and cake.

'_Master Chef she is not,'_ he thought as he saw her mixing an array of food she had taken from raiding his refrigerator. Sure, he had told her that it was her job to cook for him for the fortnight but after this particular show of her ahem— _culinary expertise_, he wasn't sure whether it was such a good idea in the first place.

Ian was by far no expert on women. Ian thought they were the most confusing beings on the planet. He would know. He had after all, lived with Natalie for his whole life. One minute she was happy about finding her missing earring, the next she was berating him for not looking there in the first place, which he had to say made absolutely no sense. After all, it's not like _he's_ the one who wears the earrings or the one who has misplaced them. As aforementioned, Ian was no expert on women but being as smart as a supercomputer, he knew better than to tell her that her cooking skills were frightening to say the least.

So he did something else, something that went into the category of moronic actions. He went behind her and whispered in her ear as she was flipping the eggs over for absolutely no reason at all... Okay, so maybe he thought he could persuade her to step away from the kitchen stove and put her hands behind her back. Nevertheless, he never got to that part of his plan as a catastrophic calamity of not-so-epic proportions happened next.

* * *

><p>"It's your entire fault." Amy told him matter-of-factly as she handed him a wet towel to wipe pieces of scrambled eggs off his face. "What in the name of sense and sensibility made you think that sneaking up on someone when they're frying eggs is a good idea?" Ian glared at her, as if to say, <em>'Obviously I wasn't thinking.'<em>

And then for some reason that Ian couldn't fathom, Amy started to blush. From out of the blue, her cheeks started to turn pink as though realization of something had suddenly dawned upon her like a fresh fish thrown smack dab in the face. He stared intently at her. A most marvelous reddish-pink hue had started to tint her cheeks making her look, well, _cute_. And cute was a word that just didn't exist in Ian's vocabulary. It was a word that a Kabra should _not_ use. So he amended that. She looked _appealing_, charming even. Alluring! Yes, that was a good word.

A slight scowl etched itself onto his face. His mood soured as he wondered who could have possibly infiltrated Amy's thoughts and made her blush so cutely. He cursed. _'There's that word again.' _

But it wasn't as though Ian could help it. He just couldn't control him thoughts. After all, only _he_ should be able to have that effect on her. Amy's face turned even redder as the intensity of his amber orbs pinned her own gaze. She averted her gaze just as the doorbell rang. Amy had never heard a more beautiful sound in her life. It was akin to a beacon of hope for the now tomato-red Amy.

"I-I'll just go get the pizza," she half-mumbled and half-squeaked, hoping to get away from him. And by him, she meant Ian in all of his shirtless glory, who by the way, she concluded to be bipolar. He had given her the most charming concerned look she had ever received in her life when his ears picked up on the comeback of her stutter about five seconds ago but was now frowning in the most frightening way possible. And at her too, no less.

Amy smacked and karate chopped herself mentally. Here she was, more than two decades old and she was still embarrassed by the sight of a half-naked man. Sure, he was by dictionary definition, good-looking and all. (Read: Hot by most people's standards.) However, that was simply no excuse for turning into a mindless drone of a fangirl. She was above swooning over handsome members of the male species. Especially, the ones that quirked eyebrows so well.

'_God help me. I did not just say that he has talent in the quirking eyebrows department.'_ Amy let out a blood- curdling scream in her head. _'I need help. I have to hire a psychiatrist. Or possibly voluntarily enter a mental institute.'_

Even her stutter came back to haunt her when she was around him. It just wasn't fair. Her nincompoop of a brother Dan knew that Ian was about as charming as a samurai sword up your butt. So how was it possible that Ian could still make her go weak in the knees after everything? There was only one plausible explanation.

'_It's his bloody fault for being so bloody attractive.'_ She slapped herself lightly on the cheek as she groaned. _'One day around him and I'm already thinking in British colloquialisms. For Madeleine's sake, won't someone in the name of Gideon Cahill's underpants help me?'_ She heaved a very, very loud sigh that probably passed as an ultrasonic sound as she opened the door, only to be met with another guy who was by all means not ugly at all. (Read: Handsome.)

Now, any other female, or rather any other fangirl that prioritizes looks would have died to be in her shoes. However, it should be noted that Amy was by her brother Dan's terminology, known as a bit of a brilliant geeky bookworm that was slightly and he emphasized only _slightly_, pretty. (Coming from Dan, Amy thought it was a huge compliment.) By Amy's own rationale, she was, well... Amy held the opinion that she was just….Amy. Therefore, her mind was always boggled when members of the opposite sex looked at her in _that_ way. And by that way, she meant actually looking at her and seeing a girl that they were interested in.

She had of course, gotten used to it a long time ago. These glances had been thrown to her since she was in junior high and by the time she entered high school she just concluded that mind-boggling was a way of life. It was safe to say that she had passed the point of caring about these looks.

Ian, on the other hand, was not so pleased that Amy had found herself a new admirer and had added to her fan club numbers while in his presence. He held the opinion that such a horror should not happen at all. Sure, he could totally understand why other members of the male species would take a liking towards her. She was absolutely charming in her own way with that endearing little stutter and a blush that always seemed to pop up at bad times.

Of course, Ian wasn't jealous. No, it couldn't be farther from the truth. He was just….

_'I'm just protecting her from the dangers of the outside world is all,'_ he told himself.

After all, he was just being protective of Amy. Therefore, he concluded, his actions of grabbing the pizza and telling that horrendous man to sod off was completely justifiable, especially since Amy was fidgeting under the man's constant scrutiny. Although, it should be noted that Ian had, in fact, conveniently forgot that the man had only been looking at Amy for a period of less than thirty seconds. _'My snarling at that fool was completely appropriate,'_ he assured himself.

'_**Yeah, keep telling yourself that, why don't you?'**_

Ian was just about to debate with himself when Amy's voice snapped him out of his reverie.

"Thanks, Ian."

She smiled at him. She really was grateful, so much so that she was actually blushing for no rhyme or reason. After all, all he did was shoo the pesky pizza guy away. Albeit she had to admit that he had seemed so gentlemanly when he did it. Well, either that or he was borderline possessive. Still, she couldn't help but feel attracted to him somehow. She couldn't come up with a valid reason though. She shook her head, as though to clear her mind of her theories of brain chemicals and whatever not.

Sometimes, things happen for reasons that aren't at all hard to fathom.

After all, it was just a simple matter of charm.

* * *

><p><em><strong>The second part of the Art of Seduction: A small matter of Allure<strong>_

* * *

><p><strong>AN**_**: **_**As always, reviews and constructive criticism are very much appreciated. Please review and make an authoress happy!(And motivate me to write the next chapter.)**

**Anyway, tell me what you people think kay? :) Press that review button people! You know you want to...:D**


	4. Intelligence Quotient

Disclaimer: My name is not Rick Riordan or whoever it is that created the 39 Clues. Thus, it's not mine.

* * *

><p>Ian couldn't help but smile as he watched Amy furiously solve his university-level mathematics homework. He had decided that he didn't feel like finishing up any of his school work that was due by Monday, so he had tasked Amy AKA the love of his life —his two-week slave to do it.<p>

It was partly because he really was feeling lazy (Amy had snorted when he had told her that he was feeling shattered.) and partly because it always amused him to watch her go through things laboriously like a mad dog. He would never admit it but he liked her determination.

Of course, it helped that she looked absolutely stunning when she was so focused. With tendrils and strands of her reddish-brown hair falling out of her messy bun, framing her face beautifully, as well as that look of utter concentration in her jade eyes and that cute frown that etched itself onto her face, Ian could safely admit that she was the picture of the epitome of perfect imperfection.

If that even made sense at all.

_**Oh, just admit that you simply want to study her.**_

Ian groaned. _'Not you again.'_

_**That's right, chap. I'm back!**_

'_Who are you anyway?'_

_**Why, I'm your inner voice of course. Your conscience. Your gut and intuition. Your-**_

'_I get it already.'_

_**I know but I haven't finished. I'm that little voice in your head that told you to not leave that piece of female awesomeness to die in that Korean cave. I'm the one that told you that your nutcase of a mother belongs in the loony bin. I also warned you that that insane person who gave birth to you was going to feed darling Amy to the sharks. I even-**_

'_Point taken. Stop now. Halt. Cease. Desist.'_

_**I refuse! Not until you tell me that you lurve Amy!**_

'_How is it that you spelt 'love' wrong?'_

_**I'm just going to ignore your comment. What a stuck-up brat you are, jerk-face. No wonder Amy doesn't like you anymore.**_

'_Jerk-face? You do know that seeing as that we are both the same person, you are technically insulting yourself?'_

'_**Desperate times call for desperate measures, my good man. Sacrifices have to be made! Tis' a far better thing that I have done and all that jazz.'**_

"Hello? Earth to Ian?" Amy repeated for the second time. She waved her elegant fingers in front of his face, only to wince in pain as he caught her wrist by reflex. He blinked at her. "Um—You can let go now, you know," she said slowly, with an almost tentative valor. He dropped her hand with the same speed he had used to trap it.

"Are you okay?" she asked him, a slight frown appearing on her face. She couldn't pinpoint the exact cause of his troubles, but it was safe to say that she knew that he was feeling bothered. Amy had noticed that he had been staring at her when that conflicted look had appeared on his face. However, considering that this was Ian that they were talking about, Amy had decided that he couldn't possibly be feeling troubled over her.

Oh, if only she knew.

"Trouble in Kabra paradise?" she asked after his lack of response. He looked up into her jade eyes, and was completely surprised to see worry fill those green orbs of hers. He nodded. "Don't tell me. Inner voice plaguing you?"

He hoped that the shock that he felt didn't show itself on his facial features. How was it that she could read him so well when he was so closed off to the rest of the world? It was a complete mystery to him. It left him feeling gobsmacked really. "How did you know?"

She shrugged. "You're not the only one that debates with yourself. It happens to me, too…. as well as the other 6.6. billion people on this planet." She grinned at him, in what she considered a futile attempt to make him feel better. After all, she was just Amy. She doubted that she could actually cheer him up enough to hop about and scream for joy. Or even smile for that matter.

That was why it was Amy's turn to be induced into a condition of shell-shocked silence when the corners of Ian's mouth upturned slightly. Mind you, it was just a slight curve in the opposite direction of down, but considering that this was Ian Kabra that they were talking about, Amy recognized it as an amazing feat if not impossible. The fact that she was the one who had managed this miracle of God made it even more amazing, not to mention bizarre.

However, she had to admit that after a week living with said person, Ian really wasn't that bad. Sure, he was still a jerk but his levels of jerk-ness had dropped substantially in her eyes. Amy could actually vouch for the fact that he was human and he had feelings, which she had accidentally found out after she burnt a hole in his best Armani suit with a steaming hot iron.

"So what would you advise me to do?" Ian asked. The wheels and cogs of Amy's mind that were still wondering about Ian's newly-found catalog of facial expressions stopped turning and whirring just in time to catch what Ian had questioned her about.

She smiled a small smile. "Well, I'm no expert on these things but I suggest that you try listening to it as I do."

_**You hear that, Kabra? She said to listen to me! You got that? Did that get through your thick skull? Hey, listen to me, damnit! **_

Ian purposely tuned out his inner voice's ramblings that sounded a lot like what Natalie would screech at him whenever she was PMS-ing. He decided that he would only take Amy's advice when his inner voice actually told him something that was actually _worth_ listening to.

"After all," she continued, "It won't pop up unless you feel that you're making a big mistake. Or unless you're feeling as conflicted as Dan and Natalie at the annual Cahill Christmas dinner," she added, giggling.

Amy would have fallen out of her chair if she hadn't already been sitting cross-legged on the floor. Ian had chuckled. He had laughed. Not at her, but with her. Slowly, she turned her gaze to the window.

Nope, no flying pigs in sight.

Which meant that he had actually found her crack about their siblings funny. Well, either that or the person in front of her was an imposter. But somehow, Amy doubted that. So she concluded that Ian was capable of being someone that she actually didn't mind spending time with. Although, it should be noted that she could totally do without the finishing-his-homework part.

His voice brought her back to reality. "Honestly, though. Am I that easy to read?" he questioned. He knew that he had perfected the art of having a façade on at almost all times. It was why he felt particularly surprised when Amy was able to distinguish his moods. He barely gave any signs at all. Maybe there was a twitch of an eyebrow here, a sneer there and so on and so forth but there were hardly any titanic, concrete signs that could indicate his mood.

Amy beamed a playful smile at him. "Not particularly. But I'd like to think that I know you best."

To quote Tao Te Ching, knowing others is intelligence. Knowing yourself is true wisdom.

And it seemed that Amy had quite a lot of both.

* * *

><p><em><strong>The Third Part of the Art of Seduction: Intelligence<strong>_


	5. Word Ascendancy

A/N: Not mine.

* * *

><p>"What are you doing?"<p>

Ian glanced up at Amy momentarily, before returning to his crossword puzzle. "What does it look like I'm doing?"

"You look like you're doing a crossword puzzle."

"Astute, aren't you?" he asked dryly.

"Was that sarcasm that I just heard you use?" she asked in amazement.

'_Is he finally gaining a sense of humor?'_ she wondered. After all, this was Ian Kabra, for goodness sake's! The only jests he ever made were usually only ever those that were condescending to others.

He rolled his eyes. "Honestly, Amy. My sense of humor is akin to a hermit. It seldom makes appearances, but that doesn't mean that it's non-existent."

She blinked. He had just attempted some humor. _Ian Kabra_ had just attempted to be funny. "Are you…actually in a good mood for once?"

He glanced at her using his peripheral vision. "Always the tone of surprise," he added, "But yes, I am actually. My stockbroker just called to tell me that I've just made a few million." He trained his gaze on her. "Besides which, what's so amazing about a crossword puzzle anyway? Granted, the fact that I'm doing one automatically makes the task seem a lot more terrific," Amy snorted. "And I am very much aware that I am a pleasure to look at, but that's no reason to stare at me like I am-"

"Oh, do shut it," she snapped at him exasperatedly."I'm only in slight bewilderment because you're doing the crossword puzzle that is notorious for being of the highest level of difficulty using a pen."

"Ah. So you felt that I looked charismatic?" he asked, the corner of his lips uplifting into a slight smirk.

"I was aiming more for the word cocky, actually," she said nonchalantly.

"You mean confident, don't you?"

Her lips pursed into a thin line. "No. I meant cocky. You know, as in arrogant. Conceited. Full of yourself. Brash. Egotistical. Vain. Presumptuous. Hubristic. Bump-"

That certainly wiped the smirk off his face.

He glared at her, earning an innocent smile from Amy. A sigh escaped his lips. He decided to forget anything had happened. Well, maybe not forget per se. It was more like he shoved the thoughts into the furthest corner of his mind for the time being.

His eyes glanced at the crossword puzzle in his hands. "Do you know any synonyms for the word 'silly'?"

"Farcical," she answered, without any hemming and hawing.

"Comical."

"Absurd."

"Ridiculous," se added.

"Preposterous," Her eyes scanned the list of clues given. "Why are you asking though? It's not in the crossword at all."

"Oh, I wasn't referring to the crossword," he told her simply. "I was simply describing the rolls of tissue paper that you've stuck up your nostrils. I have to say, it's not a very flattering look."

She shot him a dirty look. She knew that she hardly ever looked menacing when she did so, but hey. It was the principle of it all. "Hey! Don't insult my _beautiful_," She gestured to her nose, sarcasm dripped from her every word, "Ivory tusks that I will soon be selling on the black market. I'll have you know that they're very much in demand."

Ian stared at the girl that usually wasn't short of a few screws in her head. "Of course, that makes complete sense," he muttered in an almost inaudible, baritone voice. "Utter _non_sense, that is." He cleared his throat as Amy glowered some more at him. "Hmmm…" He pointedly ignored her evil eye. "What's a five-letter word for belief or principle that begins with the letter 'A'?"

Amy raised her eyebrow in suspicion. "Is this a prelude to another wisecrack?" He shook his head slightly. "Really?" she asked skeptically.

He shrugged. "Believe what you want. You'll have to tell me sooner or later anyway. You're still obliged to do what I say seeing as that your two week period is only going to expire in another thirty minutes."

Amy scowled. _'Smartass,'_ she thought bitterly. He always had to have a point. _'Pioneer of Useless Inc. Mascot of jerks everywhere. He's going to hold thirty minutes against me? What an imbecile.'_ She glanced at him, his pen poised and ready to write. Her shoulders slumped down in defeat as she mentally grumbled, '_This is all Dan's fault_. _I'm going to lock him in the library for two weeks for his antics. I'll let him go stark raving mad reading the works of Confucius and Aristotle.'_

Amy sighed before muttering, "Axiom." She heard the infinitesimal sounds of the pen scratching against the paper.

She harrumphed as Ian flashed her a victory smirk. He wouldn't have even managed to complete the crossword puzzle had it not been for her fantastic help, and the great nitwit he didn't even bother to thank her?

'_Ungrateful brat. Nincompoop. Twit, ' _she thought as she grimaced.

"Amy," he addressed her, breaking her out of her brooding. The smirk was still plastered on his face. "Do stop insulting me, will you?"

Amy swore under her breath as she felt blood rush to her face, tingeing her cheeks with a pinkish hue. She had no idea that she had said all that out loud.

'_Great. Something else that he'll never let me live down,' s_he thought bitterly.

He threw the now-completed crossword puzzle into a dustbin before seating himself next to her. "Out of curiosity though, what do you believe in?"

"The fact that you're a jerk," she said without any qualms.

He scowled slightly. "Remember. I still have ample time to completely mortify you in some very disturbing ways."

She snorted. "What are you going to do? Use the Chinese water torture method on me? Impale me on a sharp stick?"

Ian seemed to be in deep thought. "I had something else in mind. But if worst comes to worst, I suppose that'll work too." She gaped at him in horror. She had just been kidding.

He sensed the aura of trepidation radiating from the girl sitting next to him. "Did I say something wrong? That was a jest, no? I was simply going along with it," His brow furrowed slightly in confusion. "Isn't that how people share jokes?"

She stared at him. '_Okay,_' she thought. _'I take back my previous thoughts. His sense of humor definitely needs a lot of work. Either that or, he needs to get a new one. '_

"Well, yes. But you know what? Humor doesn't go very well with you. So, lay off the jokes, okay?" She didn't really feel like telling him any of her beliefs but for fear of Ian's horrifying hermit-like humor making a comeback, she spilled the beans anyway. Albeit, it should be noted that she felt slightly averse. This topic wasn't exactly number one on her list of 'Things to Talk About with Ian Kabra'. "By the way, I do believe in Legalism and karma."

He nodded appreciatively. "Ah. So, what are your thoughts on intelligence?"

"Intelligence is a skill that should not be allowed to deteriorate through neglect."

"Huh. And what do you think about love?"

She blinked repeatedly, feeling a bit taken aback. She hadn't been expecting that. "Why do you ask?"

Ian shrugged. "I'm merely curious."

Amy bit her lip. "Well…"

* * *

><p>Words are important.<p>

Sometimes words can be the best medicine, able to heal even the most severe of wounds. Bruised pride, broken hearts, and battered self-esteem can all be made better with a few words from the right person.

Other times, words are like the bullets that cause the wounds. Even if you retract them, they still leave scars. Words can be imprinted on your memory, pounding on your mind's eye, haunting your dreams, or even come trailing after you like a ghost of your past.

Words are important. It can have a detrimental effect on you.

Especially when uttered by somebody whose opinions matter to you, someone that you actually care about.

* * *

><p><em><strong>The Fourth Part of the Art of Seduction: Word Ascendancy<strong>_

* * *

><p>AN: As always, tell me what you like, what you hate, what is tolerable and what can be improved.

The quote 'Intelligence is a skill that should not be allowed to deteriorate through neglect' is modified from one of Queen Elizabeth I's childhood conversations with her tutor. 'Always the tone of surprise' is my favourite line from Harry Potter.


	6. Epilogue

Disclaimer: No.

* * *

><p>"I don't know," she answered truthfully.<p>

"Meaning?" His eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"I'm just…not sure." She pushed a few stray tendrils of hair out of her eyes. "I really don't know. I mean, I think that speed dating is just poppycock. Sometimes when I see people getting divorced, the thought of marriage being antediluvian crosses my mind."

"You don't believe in speed dating and marriage?"

Amy bit her lip. "You could say that..." She trailed off, leaving the rest open for interpretation.

"You don't…" Ian may not have been the most emotional person on Earth, but he _was _as smart as a supercomputer. Realization dawned upon him. "…believe in love." What he had meant to be a question had quickly become a statement. "You don't believe in love," he repeated.

Her arms waved about wildly as she denied what he was accusing her of. "What? No, no!" She took a deep breath to calm herself down. "I do believe in love. Of course I do." If she didn't, how could she possibly explain the magic that her parents shared? "I just don't believe it will happen to me."

"Why not?" It wasn't really a question. It was a demand.

"Because there's nothing that convinces me otherwise," Their eyes met. "Finding Prince Charming, living happily ever after and feeling like a princess- none of it happens in real life. They happen in _books_. For the love of Austen, that's the very reason why they're called _fairytales_. It's the stuff that little girls dream of, a magical tale of romantic escapades and flights of fanciful fluff. But that's just it. They're dreams. Nothing more."

His amber eyes pinned her jade orbs with an intense gaze. "Every ending is just another beginning," he said matter-of-factly. "I'm not the most emotional person on Earth, but even I have to admit that it's a fact of life."

Bells chimed, signaling the passing of the hour. She didn't feel like talking about this anymore. This was a literal case of being saved by the bell. Her gaze flitted towards the clock, confirming that it was time to go. "I'm going to return home now, seeing as that my two week slave labor contract has expired."

Momentary silence filled the air. "Wait."

She looked up from fiddling with her suitcase's zipper. "What?"

"Why did you like those fairytales?"

Amy snorted. "Because I was young and naïve."

He changed his question. "Why do you like books?"

She answered without hesitation, even though she had no idea what this was leading up to. "I like books because they open up worlds of endless possibilities, all based on the question 'What if?'."

Ian didn't even blink when he asked her, "What if I told you that I want to establish a mutual admiration society with you?"

"I-I'm sorry. What did you say?"

"What if I can prove you wrong?"

"I-I…" she stuttered, feeling completely taken aback.

"What if this is our opportunity to find out what if?"

She just stared at him, speechless.

"_What if?"_ The words echoed throughout the penthouse and hung in the air as if written there. He gazed at her. He didn't need to voice his thoughts for her to understand.

_Because really, who knows what we can be?_

_Because our story is far from over. _

_Because our story has only just begun._

_What if?_

Silently, he held out his hand. All she did was stare at it for a while. And after what seemed like eons, she tentatively placed her hand in his. It wasn't much, but it was a start.

And sometimes, a start is all that you need.

* * *

><p>According to Lao Tzu, the journey of a thousand miles begins with the first step. Sometimes it takes some temptation— be it attraction, charm or intelligence— to lure you to make that leap of faith that will start you on your journey.<p>

Most of the time though, it takes love.

Love for a dream. It could even be love for a person. Or maybe just love for a brighter prospect.

Because in the end, isn't love the greatest seductress of all?

* * *

><p>AN: It's finally over! As always, tell me what you like, what you hate, what can be improved and all the silly mistakes that I've made.

I have a few things to confess. I have never read the actual Art of Seduction. All I know is that it's Article Twenty-something in Sun Tzu's book, The Art of War. I go to an all girls' school, so my interaction with the opposite gender is very limited. I apologize if the characters' interactions were less than believable in some parts.

Annyeong, chingus!


End file.
